


Scratch the Itch

by AlexKingOfTheDamned, swimsalot



Category: The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fingering, Handporn, M/M, PWP, Porn-Without-Plot, Shameless Smut, brain candy pairing, sort of phone sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-16
Updated: 2013-02-16
Packaged: 2017-11-29 11:31:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/686482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexKingOfTheDamned/pseuds/AlexKingOfTheDamned, https://archiveofourown.org/users/swimsalot/pseuds/swimsalot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony has an itch he needs scratched after Pepper left him for Natasha - so why can't he go after a man?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scratch the Itch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [writerchick0214](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerchick0214/gifts).



Tony can't think of a time in his life he as ever felt antsier. His skin itches constantly, but it’s the sort of itch from inside, that can’t be satisfied with the end of a pen or his fingernails. The kind of itch he needs to scratch within another’s body.

 

The only problem is with his recent breakup with Pepper (it wasn’t that rough, but it still left him feeling a little bitter) he’s feeling altogether dismal about women. One of the most beautiful women he knows left him – he who should have been able to please a woman better than any man under the sun – left him for a _woman_. And not just any woman. _Natasha Romanoff_ , another woman whom Tony has been lusting for since he first laid eyes on her in her low-cut blouse, bouncy red curls and sinfully full lips.

 

Lips that are now being pressed to Pepper’s sweet little pussy, where his mouth used to be. It makes him writhe with jealousy and heat.

 

It wasn’t until Pepper’s sudden outing that he realized maybe he didn’t need to be strictly hetero either. After all, it didn’t really have anything to do with pride, simply attraction. It didn’t make any sense for him to feel shameful about being attracted to men – because it wasn’t anything to be ashamed of.

 

Trouble was, there weren’t a lot of men in his life that he found attractive. He knew muscles were attractive by most standards.

 

But Steve’s goody-goody personality left him with a sour taste in his mouth. It would be impossible to get him in bed without first extracting the stick from his ass, and Tony didn’t think that much work would be worth it.

 

Thor had muscles on his muscles on his muscles, but he was rather intimidating to say the least.

 

Bruce was pretty adorable, but Tony has it from a reliable source that he has his eyes (and his mouth) on the brunette bombshell, Darcy.

 

But then there was Clint. It was his eyes that drew in Tony at first. Laced with eyelashes that had no earthly purpose belonging on a man’s eyes, with golden-brown irises that burned at the worst of times, dropped bodies at the best. Full lips, a jaw that was meant to be grabbed and sucked, a neck that sloped and needed to be held and kissed pink. Shoulders just broad enough, hips at the ideal width to be grabbed by Tony’s hands. Strong arms and (stronger) legs to draw him in while he’s fucking into that taught body. It was mostly a wet dream of his until he happened to catch Clint jacking off to gay porn in one of his nests.

 

All he needs is bait.

 

Clint's been having a hard time, too. In more than one sense of the word. He and the latest man in his long line of really bad choices had just broken up because interestingly enough Clint is not okay with walking in on a threesome he was not invited to. Since then he's been in kind of a slump. He's gone out a few times to bars but he hates those kinds of hook ups because you never know who has what or what they plan on slipping in your drink. It takes hours of effort to find someone suitable for one night of sloppy drunken sex that he then has to walk home from in the morning.  
  
So he turned to porn but with limited satisfaction. He gets the release he craves but not the satisfaction that comes from a man's hands on him or a good hard pounding. What he needs is someone interested, preferably nearby, who he can count on but isn't looking for long term.  
  
But the only guys he knows like that are ones he works with. Phil had caught his eye for a time but he's straighter than an arrow. Steve probably is too and is the kind of guy who would want a commitment which Clint is not going to do. Especially not with Captain fucking America. Bruce is nice but too risky. Clint might tend towards the masochistic at times but he's not suicidal. Thor is a good friend but he's a fertility god and Clint doesn't want to know how that would work out.  
  
Which leaves Tony. The genius billionaire playboy with plenty of attitude. He certainly has everything Clint wants. A nice body, muscular but not so much he looks photoshopped. A distinct "I don't give a fuck" personality. And he's older. Which Clint enjoys. Problem is he's got eyes for his ex-girlfriend and her current girlfriend. So that's a no go too.  
  
Which leaves Clint jerking off alone in the shower.

 

When Tony is bored he likes to flip through cameras in the tower and see what he can see. Usually it’s nothing interesting, but once in a blue moon he’ll find two employees making out in a closet on the fourth floor, or some guy dancing while mopping.

 

But today he finds Clint in the gym’s shower room, leaned up against the wall and finger-fucking himself blue in the face. He’s not even touching his cock, he’s arched off the wall of the shower, head thrown back, free hand braced against the slippery surface as he grinds fingers into himself. Tony can already feel his cock jumping to life in his trousers, because that’s probably one of the most insanely hot things he’s ever seen in his life. Clint’s penis is sticking straight out and curved upwards, and Tony curses the black and white security footage because he bets the head of that perfect shaft is a gorgeous shade of red, the kind that can only be made better with a little bit of TLC. Preferably from his own lips. Tony’s mouth waters.

 

The incentive is there, because he can already feel his length begging for air in his pants, whimpering and throbbing and wanting so badly to be shoved where Clint’s fingers are. His bait is questionable, but at least if he’s denied it’s not to his face. So he reaches forward and presses a button that will broadcast his voice into the shower room, and he doesn’t mean for his words to come out quite as lust-rough as they do.

 

“I search the cameras on a whim just to find you like this – Christ, Clint, how many fingers do you have in there?”

 

Clint jumps a little and considers stopping. But clearly Tony likes what he's seeing or he wouldn't have commented and Clint isn't above putting on a little show.  
  
"Three." he purrs, sticking his hips out just a little more. He presses against his prostate and groans nice and loud for Tony, closing his eyes and tilting his head back.

 

“Fuck,” Tony grunts before he can stop it, and he presses a palm between his legs. “Three? You’ve got big fingers – ” he gasps as his cock gives a strong pulse in his trousers, and he knows Clint is clever enough to catch on to the fact that he just partially admitted to how much time he spends staring at the man’s hands.

 

"Yeah but I'm good with my hands." Clint chuckles. He keeps going, working himself a little slower, really making it obvious for Tony. "Besides," he grins. "I've had bigger."

 

“Shit,” Tony groans, hanging his head for just a moment and pressing the heel of his hand into the apex of his thighs a little more roughly as he imagines Clint’s ass spread open by his hands, drilled deep by his cock. “Tell me,” he grunts.

 

“Tell you?” Clint echoes.

 

“The biggest you’ve had. Tell me. How big was he, what did it feel like when he was inside you?” Tony isn’t shy about the fact that he gets off on listening to other peoples’ sexual stories. He once came in his pants untouched during a cell phone conversation with Pepper in which she went into great details with one of her sexual exploits from college.

 

"He was a fair eight inches in length and about five and a half inches around." Clint answers and he hears Tony curse. "First time sucked but the second and third times....got that stretch and he wasn't shy about his strength. Held me down by my shoulders and just pounded me into the mattress. Couldn't feel my legs for three days."

 

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Tony moans, imagining Clint’s face while being hammered by a cock as huge as the one described. Mouth open, eyes closed, drool shining on his lips and whining in desperation from the pain and pleasure asserted on his body. “You don’t need a stretch that huge every time, do you?” he asks breathily. He doesn’t have that much girth to spare – and not even that much length. He’s got more than enough, but he’s no superhuman. Not like Thor or Steve who probably have unearthly ten-inch dicks that nobody wants anything to do with.

 

"N-no." Clint gasps, teasing his prostate again. His cock is throbbing and he's tempted to take himself in hand but he isn't going to. He's either going to come just from his fingers or Tony is going to get down here and make this worth the struggle. "I was younger then." Clint continues. "I could even take two guys at once then. Couldn't handle that now."

 

“Oh shit,” Tony groans loudly, imagining what it would be like to push his cock into Clint’s perfect ass alongside another. “What would you say if I told you I want to come down to the shower and watch you jack off, switch out your fingers for mine, maybe my tongue, my cock, what would you say?”

 

"I'd say what the fuck are you waiting for?" Clint laughs. He can't believe this is happening but if it's a dream or a prank he really doesn't care. "Better hurry though. Or I might finish without you."

 

Tony doesn’t answer; the only sound is a faint click in the shower room when his finger leaves the button. Tony is already stripping his shirt from his body on his way through the halls, and mercifully he doesn’t run into anyone who would ask him why he’s running around half naked with a pool cue in his pants.

 

His shirt is off and thrown on a bench when he storms into the shower room, demanding that Jarvis lock it behind him and he sees Clint has opened the shower curtain for his viewing pleasure.

 

“God dammit,” Tony growls, his whole body pulsing hot as the steam from Clint’s shower wafts around him and he tries to work his trousers off his legs with shaking hands. “Keep going, fuck, keep going. Turn around, I want to see your fingers inside you.”

 

Clint smirks and does as he's told, turning his back on Tony and spreading his legs so the genius can see the three fingers thrusting in and out of his body. He curls them as they slide back out, the callused pads raking against his inner walls and he moans, his back arching and head tipping back in sheer bliss.

 

Tony finally shucks his socks, shoes and underwear, and he practically falls into the shower. He kisses the back of his neck, his body slowly slicking up with water as he trails kisses down Clint’s back, encouraging his fingers to keep grinding inside his body.

 

Down on his knees now, he watches closely as Clint pushes his long, thick fingers in past his stretched muscle, which is rosy from stimulation. He kisses the overworked ring of muscle, earning a keening sound from the archer. Tony begins to massage the back of Clint’s thighs as close as he can come to his ass without interfering with the work of art he’s witnessing.

 

Clint has gorgeous hands. Wide and strong with knuckles that are knobby and just made to be traced and kissed and sucked. Tony kisses the back of his hand as it works fingers into that soft, open muscle, and he gets a moan from Clint for his work.

 

“God this is a good look for you,” he moans, giving his own bobbing length a luxurious pull as he watches Clint’s knuckles shift beneath the tanned skin of his hand as he presses his fingers as deeply into his body as they will reach.

 

"T-Tony." Clint gasps, a shiver running through him as he looks over his shoulder at Tony behind him, watching his hand and his fingers working him open. "Could you k-kiss my hand again? My fingers are really sensitive."

 

Tony begins to lave his tongue over what he can reach of Clint’s fingers when they aren’t buried up his ass, sucking on his wide knuckles and slipping his tongue into the small webbing between his fingers. He sucks on the junction of Clint’s thumb and the rest of his hand, stroking the back as he leaves gentle bites across the entire expanse. Clint is moaning passionately now, almost sobbing as his hands are paid exquisite attention, and his voice is not lost on the thrumming billionaire.

 

Clint bites his lip, trying to keep quiet and quickly gives up. Nothing is going to silence him when a skilled tongue is teasing his fingers and tracing his knuckles. All he can do is hold on and enjoy the ride. And hope Tony erases the camera footage when they're done.  
  
"Fuck Tony." he chokes out as he fucks himself harder and Tony's tongue traces right where his fingers enter his ass, stimulating two pleasure centers at once. "If you don't get your cock in me soon I'm gonna lose it."

 

“Oh believe me, I will too,” Tony groans, stroking himself a little more rapidly now as he gently draws Clint’s fingers out of his body – nice and slow and close so he can watch the way that muscle tightens in panic around every knuckle of Clint’s fingers. He takes those long digits into his mouth and begins to suck on them, grinding his tongue where his fingers meet one another in the middle, nibbling on the pads and sucking their length all the way into his mouth, even though they tickle his throat.

 

"Fuck!" Clint gasps, his knees starting to tremble. The arm holding his off the wall gives out and he collides against the tile surface, accidentally pulling his hand away from Tony. The loss of contact makes him whine and he reaches back blindly trying to find him again.

 

“I’m here,” Tony purrs, taking his three fingers into his mouth again and sucking without restraint. Clint sounds so undone, and his body is shuddering so violently in another circumstance Tony might think he was possessed.

 

Clint whimpers pathetically and tries to steady himself to no avail. He's so hard it hurts and every swipe of Tony's tongue or graze of his teeth against the sensitive pads of his fingers just makes it worse.  
  
"God Tony." he says finally, finding the force of will to form words again. "You can play with my fingers while you fuck me. Let's get going."

 

“Not in the shower. Slipping would really ruin the mood,” Tony says after he lets Clint’s fingers fall from his lips. He doesn’t even bother to turn off the water as he draws Clint out of the shower and shoves him against the wall. Clint cries out at the cool temperature in contrast to his water-heated back, and Tony takes a moment to appraise the tight, trembling body before him.

 

Clint's doing the same, looking Tony over from beneath long, wet lashes. He's about an inch shorter than Clint and not as muscular but he's got great arms and defined abs. His legs are strong and sturdy and his cock looks so good Clint could cry.

 

“Best decision of my life,” Tony groans as he presses his wet body to Clint’s, collarbones to cocks and grinds against him. Clint is so strung out all he can do is keen and press back as their soaked bodies slide together. He’s caught in limbo, between wanting to get into that tight body and being too afraid that he’ll come too soon to try.

 

"Fuck, yes." Clint agrees. He grips Tony's hips and then runs his hands up the man's thick chest to rest on either side of his arc reactor. He can feel the minute vibrations against his already oversensitive fingers and he has to fight the urge to squirm and rub his slick, naked body against Tony's.

 

Steam is rising off their heated bodies as they cool against the wall, and Tony presses a few messy kisses to that jawline he’s been dreaming about for weeks, which has just enough stubble to give his lips a little scratch. He links his fingers with Clint’s, both hands, and grinds against his body a little more strongly.

 

“Okay, shit, I don’t know if my legs are going to hold out through this,” he gasps, casting his eyes over to the plastic-cushioned benches that lined the shower room.

 

"Old man." Clint teases, like the age difference isn't one of the things that drew him to Tony in the first place. "I don't care how we do it or where. Choose a surface and let's get going."

 

“I’ll show you old man,” Tony growls, seizing Clint by the hips and dragging him to his feet. Their steps are unsteady, but Clint doesn’t mind the wobble in his knees because he’s soon mercifully – and roughly – pushed down onto his stomach on the free-standing bench, his legs spread wide to either side and his cock pressed between his belly and the plush plastic-coated seat.

 

“Fuck,” Tony hisses, spreading Clint’s ass with both his hands and allowing a rivulet of saliva to fall from his tongue to the rim of that already pink, soft muscle. “You’re already worked so open for me, took half the fun out of it for me.” He can’t resist hooking two of his fingers into that muscle just to get a feel for how hot, how wet, how perfect it is.

 

Clint buries his face in the cushion, trying to hide the whine Tony pulls from him. But he can't keep his hips from pushing back, driving Tony's fingers deeper inside him out of desperation because he fucking needs it. Needs it bad.  
  
"I want you so much Tony." Clint gasps, turning his head back so he can breathe again.

 

“Fuck. Yes,” Tony groans and pulls his fingers from Clint’s ass. He’s used to maybe a little more foreplay with sexual partners in the past, but then again this isn’t really sex it’s just a fuck. A fast, messy, hot fuck that won’t last very long and will leave them both boneless and breathless and brainless.

 

So he takes hold of his cock and lines up and pushes in, just like that. Without hesitation, slips in as deep as Clint will take him – right up to the hilt in one solid stroke.

 

Clint's back arches and his head flies back, a wail of pleasure tearing from his throat and escaping his lips. It feels so good to have a man in him again and it's Tony Stark. He doesn't mess around, he gets straight to business, just like Clint wants and it feels so good to be so full again.  
  
And Tony is perfect. He's long but not painful and thick enough that Clint can feel the stretch but isn't worried about tearing. He feels so good and he has such control over himself and over Clint in this position. It's everything he could have wanted.

 

Tony gathers both of Clint’s arms and pins them loosely behind his back so that he can thread his fingers between all ten of the archer’s, and play gently with his fingertips as he begins into a deep, steady pace. He isn’t holding him so tightly he couldn’t break away, in fact all he would need to do is unbend his arms and he would be free, but the stimulation to his hands is brilliant. Pinches and massages to fingertips, alternating pressure in how tightly his hands are squeezed, while his ass his opened up underneath the most perfect of cocks.

 

Clint is practically crying it feels so good. Maybe he is crying. If he is he won't admit it. But the stimulation to his hands, one of his most sensitive areas, coupled with the work of art that is Tony's cock thrusting into him is enough to bring almost any man to tears. Not to mention every thrust jerks his body a little, rubbing his own hardness against the padded seat. It's so good he's starting to feel dizzy, the majority of his blood having migrated south.

 

“Oh shit, you feel so good,” Tony groans, and he reels a bit as he comes to the very sudden realization that he is thrusting into the body of Hawkeye, an Avenger, one of the six most lethal people on the planet, and has him whimpering like a virgin. He feels like he’s on top of the world, indestructible as he bears his weight down on the muscular man and strokes into him hard and sweet.

 

"Fuck, yes!" Clint cries out, eyes squeezed shut, experiencing everything by touch alone and it's all heightened and so, so good. "Just like that Tony," he encourages, trying to rock his hips back into Ton'y thrusts. "Hard and fast. Just like that, that's so good Tony."

 

Tony hooks one foot up onto the bench to get a new angle to pound into the willing form of the archer, watching his face contort with bliss as he’s so brutally used. With the hand he isn’t tracing patterns into Clint’s fingers with, he reaches to cup the nearest of Clint’s ass cheeks, and he uses that grip to spread him a little wider and grind just a little deeper.

 

“Keep talking, you sound so hot,” Tony groans, already feeling like he’s nearing the edge and wondering how long he can prolong this.

 

"Fucking love your cock." Clint gasps. He's still rocking back, driving Tony as deep into his body as he can. "Feels so good Tony. You're so strong - it doesn't hurt, just feels good. Filling me up, pounding into me. God it's so good. I feel like I'm gonna explode Tony you're going to pound me so hard I break in half but damn it'll be worth it."

 

Tony rolls his head back with a groan as he works faster into the trembling blonde. He finally releases his hands so he can hold onto both of Clint’s shoulders. The archer pushes up onto his elbows and takes hold of the edges of the seat in order to push back more strongly against the thrusts.

 

“Oh shit you’re way too good,” Tony grunts, his hips moving so fast he wonders if he’s on the road towards a spinal injury.

 

You're not bad yourself." Clint smirks between pants and gasps. "Little to your right and you'll be perfect."  
  
Tony adjusts his angle and Clint is seeing stars. He's in just the right position now that every thrust hits Clint's prostate and the last of his breath leaves the archer's lungs as he struggles to just hold on through the brand new torrent of sensation.

 

Tony’s a little embarrassed that he needs coaching, but reminds himself that he’s accustomed to driving into writhing women, he knows what spots to hit inside her tight little sex, and his experience with men is incredibly limited. So he takes Clint’s advice gracefully, and with good reward – Clint is gasping and clenching around him so tightly he worries he might lose it.

 

“Shit, oh, shit I’m close, I’m getting there,” he warns the archer with a groan.

 

"I'm clean." Clint manages to gasp out. "If you are too go for it. I'm close too."

 

“Good thing too because we didn’t put much forethought into this,” Tony laughs breathily as he kicks up his pace, pushing himself closer towards orgasm with every strong thrust.

 

He hangs his head in order to watch his cock disappear into the archer’s tight, pliant ass, and it’s the sight of it that finally gets to him. He tosses his head back again with a roar of satisfaction, pounding his way through orgasm, fingers tightening on Clint’s shoulders.

 

Clint can feel it. The familiar warmth that signals Tony's release inside him and it's been too long since he trusted someone enough to allow that. It feels so good and the brutal pounding that accompanies it sends Clint tumbling over the edge into his own orgasmic bliss. He bucks and grinds against Tony while he rides out his own orgasm.  
  
After a moment that feels like forever they're both coming down from their high, Tony's sweat slicked chest pressed against Clint's equally sticky back while they pant and gasp and try to remember which way is up.

 

“Holy shit, yes,” Tony affirms the unspoken, implied question ‘was it good.’ “All in favor of us becoming very good fuck friends say aye.”

 

"Aye." Clint laughs. "Consider yourself invited to pretty much all of my showers from now on."

 

“Motion carries,” Tony sighs as he kisses Clint’s shoulders to distract him from the pull out of him. “Not going to lie, that was some of the quickest, filthiest, _best_ sex of my life.”

 

"You did come in a bit late for the foreplay." Clint replies, still grinning. "Next time I'll introduce you to my sword-swallowing skills."

 

 


End file.
